Outlands Coronation report

It seemed we got off to a fitful start, as many roadtrips do. More like herding cats, really. But, finally, off we sped, southward into the raging storm. Myself, Dons Dio and Talan, and Talans' lady Kamadevi.

Don Dio (my grandfather Don, if you feel like drawing a flow chart) had been talking about winning the Protector of the Queens Heart tournament since the very moment King Hrorek won Crown Tourney. Actually, since long before that. He vowed years ago that he would win it if Hrorek was ever King.

So I had to go along and witness that he would indeed win. I really never had any doubt, because I knew Don Dio in the old days, when his powers were at their peak. So he stopped playing for what, five years? The Force is still strong in him.

Oh, yes. A side note. Spending six hours in a vehicle with Don Dio can feel like six minutes or six weeks. And no, you can't sleep through it.

After arriving at our stopping place for the night, we settled down to a get some sleep in the house of another Don, who shall for now remain nameless. His collection of sharp and deadly weapons rivals that of most museums I've seen, and I wouldn't want anyone to get any ideas. Not that you'd EVER find his house anyway, with an 11 mile driveway. It's not often that I've been able to step out of a house and not see ANY signs of civilization. Anywhere. It occurred to me that if I lived there, I'd save a ton of money on not doing laundry.

Anyway, morning arrives bright and sunny, and I recall why I don't like the southern Outlands. They've got their dayball set on kill. And if that don't kill you, the wind will. I started squinting immediately. Then came the telltale grit in my teeth. Mmmm. Dusty.

We get there in time for court, to see the the two other things I did not want to miss: Elijah Tynker's Knighting ceremony and the investiture of King Hrorek and his Queen (yeah, I'm skipping her name because it's one of those celtic ones with about sixteen extra letters).

I had heard that the fencing scenario was supposed to be a dance card draw, but it got changed to a one hour epee only speed tourney. Ouch. I'm suddenly very glad I'm not fighting in it. So Don Talan, Kamadevi and I settle in the watch the fights. Don Dio told me two months ago he was going to win it. I never really had any doubts, but it was glorious to watch....even with the wardrobe malfunctions...

We stayed for Court, but since we didn't have feast reservations, we decided to go to an Indian restaurant instead. I somehow succeeded in finding this place I've been to ONCE, two years ago, without the aid of a map or an address. In Santa Fe. Which is more confusing to me than Boston. All that adobe just looks the same to me. And I found our way back to the site, where we picked up a map to the post revel...

...and my GOD, Santiago's house is awesome. He wins the 'best bathroom of the year' award. You could fit five people in that shower. And hanging around the fire pit and smelling that wonderful pinon smoke that I miss so much, reminded me that I haven't traveled to the desert since Outlandish 2 years ago. Remember when all of our garb had "Eau de Outlandish"? There were times when I hated washing my garb because then that smoky musk would vanish.

At the post revel I drank something called a "Citrovia" which is Nostrovia using citrus rum instead of brandy. Call me a heathen, but it wasn't bad. And Cailean's Mead was good too.

The next morning we went back to the event briefly to let the Dons attend a White Scarf meeting, while us ladies got to watch a little War Practice. That stuff really gets your blood moving.

I thought about the last 12 years of my SCA life and how it seems to be coming full circle. People who played 10 years ago are re-appearing. A new map or two is on the horizon... and I have an opportunity to see the SCA through a fresh pair of newbie eyes.

It's three months to War. Time to get busy old school.

It's going to be a Great Reign.